


Humans After All

by carrofelicia



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Domestic, Dr. Frederick Chilton Lives, Fluff and Angst, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, M/M, Mentioned Alana Bloom, Reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:08:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28689915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrofelicia/pseuds/carrofelicia
Summary: Will Graham realized Hannibal is only a human after all.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 43





	Humans After All

Will Graham had cradled the thought of Hannibal’s inhumanity in the weirdest corners of his mind. His overwhelming fascination towards the man had slowly constructed a shimmering Imago - an ideal of his beloved – and he unknowingly, without the slightest aid of his rationality, believed this unrealistic Imago.

When they first met, about 30 years ago, he was indifferent to the man who had shown unprofessional psychiatric curiosity. This curiosity has even managed to be more intimate than Alana’s had. However, as they meet and share their deepest secrets, Will’s his instability and Hannibal’s his past, the criminal profiler became impressed of Hannibal’s gentle activities. He’s perfect in everything he does, and not in an affectionate standpoint, but on a bystander’s one. Will can empathize with anybody. This makes him familiar with almost all the possible distasteful personalities, and he can say Hannibal is not a pretentious master crafter of social images, like how most people would try to act amazing in front of a stranger for reputation’s sake. No. Hannibal is just a man who prefers decency and excellence and from then on it was easy to fall in love.

However, this feelings had probably been a product of comparing him to another being he’s slowly falling hard for: The Chesapeake Ripper. This killer is perfect, decent, excellent, and what not. Loving this being is impossible; he’s not even sure of its gender, age, and existence. In his mind, he placed the Chesapeake Ripper’s image in the narrow scape of his belief to the supernatural. 

Will felt his attraction to Hannibal was shallow, so he never mentioned it to anyone except to his dogs. His dogs may have been able to understand his affection towards the Psychiatrist because they respect and accept him whenever he comes to their territory unannounced. 

After the incarceration for the crimes Hannibal framed him to, he felt betrayed and heartbroken. The realization that he’s the Chesapeake Ripper may have eased his divided affection towards the two entities, but the anger was greater. This anger made him fool Hannibal; Hannibal who was the Chesapeake Ripper; Hannibal who is gentle, perfect, and excellent; Hannibal who can kill anyone without a trace using his surprising strength; Hannibal who can be fooled by love nonetheless.

Hannibal is human after all.

Yet Hannibal lived after being thrown to the roaring Atlantic with all those severe injuries. He lived and managed to drag Will to the shore despite being injured by the dragon and the seas. He lived and sutured Will’s wounds while bleeding, suturing his own wounds after tending to Will’s unconscious state for two days. He lived and managed to own his finances without ticking off the FBI’s radar. He lived and got them an expensive woodland house in Sweden while fooling the people and its government.

Hannibal may not be human after all. 

So then, why, after 30 years, Hannibal has broken his hip for the third time this week. He is 70 years old, his hair is greying and his face is full of wrinkles, though not as many as the average seniors his age. Hannibal takes good care of himself – his bones and his skin – but age is an invisible enemy that even the comically powerful Chesapeake Ripper cannot eat. Will is 15 years younger. At age 55, Will is still an active worker who can walk back and forth the village to give his auto mechanic service. He’s also aging, but maybe not as near to the end of the wick as Hannibal.

After giving plumbing service to the young gay couple near their growing village, Will Graham went back home to prepare the dinner. He cannot let Hannibal cook anymore after the man managed to overcook the chicken (because he cannot hunt humans anymore), burn himself over the flambé, and break his hip for picking up the spatula, all at once. After that incident, Hannibal’s depression worsened. Nowadays, he’s just sitting near the fireplace, looking at the woods through their huge Victorian window. Will once suggested a nurse, and he was answered by a loud bang from their bedroom door. He guessed that means no.

“Hannibal?” Will gently called. He heard seniors are usually emotionally sensitive added by possible looming dementia. Will doubts Hannibal would fall victim for this common mental illness, he’s very mentally diligent after all, but it’s never wrong to be sure. “What would you like for dinner?”

“Anything an old man can easily chew down, Will.” Hannibal’s grumpy yet calm voice answered.

Will sighed. It’s one of those days, then. Hannibal would be silent all day, looking over the window that is the source of grey light from the constant snow-filled mountains, probably thinking of the limits of his aging body. He doesn’t even wear his usual flattering three-piece suits. The coat and the vest have vanished altogether, and his pants are replaced by wider straight cuts. In Will’s opinion, there was no need for that. 

“Hannibal, please. I managed to gather these mushrooms you like so much. But I don’t know what to do with them. Maybe you can give me instructions?” Will tried to reason. He walked closer to Hannibal’s chair and sat at its armrest, letting his thigh brush to the older man’s hand.

“Will.” Hannibal called lowly and forlornly. He moved his arms to slide through Will’s thighs. “Have you ever thought of what to do when I’m gone? Would you take another lover? Would he or she be younger? More active? Anyone who can take care of the dogs?”

Will was aware Hannibal is getting older, but he never thought his mind would be getting grimmer by the minute. However, instead of sweetly cuddling away his worries (that he’s been doing for months!), he spew the closest and most frequent thoughts he has. “To be honest, I never thought we could get old.”

“What have you imagined our cause of death would be then, dear Will?”

Will shrugged his shoulders.

It was Hannibal’s turn to sigh. “I have known, my love…” He steered his neck to face the deeply-thinking Will Graham. “… that somehow, in the hidden corners of your beautiful mind, you have thought of me inhuman.”

Will breathed the guilt in. “It was irrational, I know. But I can’t help but think you could never die.”

“Are you disappointed?”

“I’m not disappointed in you. I’m disappointed that someday…”

“… I would die.” Hannibal continued. When he noticed the dense in the air, he tried to steer away the topic from death. “Would you be here with me anyway?”

Will jolted and faced Hannibal. He placed his arms around the older man’s shoulder and kissed his temple. “Until the end. Even after.”

“After your death or mine?”

“Whichever comes first.”

They stared at each other’s eyes, crow’s feet being dominant, but Hannibal’s focus was on Will’s pupils: Strong, colorful, and expressive. Will’s focus was on Hannibal’s loving gaze: Cold amber eyes that can only soften when their visions meet. 

“My dear Will, I do believe I’m the one to blame with this little belief of yours.”

Will snickered. “How so?”

“I made you believe I cannot be killed, to the point of immortal. Tell me, how do you feel when you saw me aging? That my skin isn’t as flawless as the day we met?"

“Your skin wasn’t exactly flawless when we met, old man.” Will continued laughing to the humor. “…but answering that question, I believe I thought, ‘so you’re human after all. Much like me’.”

Hannibal smiled. “And here I was thinking you’re the inhuman one.”

The younger old man rolled his eyes. “Why would you even think that?”

“Because I love you.”

There was a pause. Hannibal let the silence sink in just to see Will’s changing expressions of shock. Time and time again he proved his undying love to the fascinating criminal profiler through actions, and time and time again Will Graham will stutter of shock whenever he is reminded verbally. His husband is a collection of contrasting characteristics. His only regret is that he would not be witnessing his final days, strong to his beautiful actions and philosophy despite the age. It seems it will be him to put him down the grave.

“Doctor Hannibal Lecter. I love you, too,” Will cannot control the waterworks on his eyes. They fell, because Hannibal’s mortality is inevitable and that fact alone wakes him to the reality that the Chesapeake Ripper is not a deity, and that the real gods of Earth will take them away one way or another. He hates to see this everlasting love to stop, even for a day. “When we love someone, we become disillusioned. Because by that love, we see potential in our beloved.” 

Hannibal scoot over to let Will sit in the chair, so he could pull him by the back of his neck for an intimate embrace. “The potential of being god-like. Inevitably I believed you would always live, my darling, just like how permanent you are in my memories.”

“I love you Hannibal. That, I’m sure, is permanent.”

They lived ten years more as Hannibal prepared his memoriam. He did improve his living to last longer for Will, and last longer he did.

Will Graham’s kidney failed at the age of 65. The dialysis was unbearable so he asked his husband to let him go with a Morphine shot. At that moment, Will understood Bella, and Hannibal empathized with Jack. 

Within the year of Will’s death, Hannibal finished his autobiography and sent it for international publishing. The book detailed all his kills, his adventures with the ever amazing Will Graham, and their simple life in Sweden. 

The book, of course, caught international attention. The psychiatric community that had long accepted Frederick Chilton’s analysis uproared, as the book is a subtly served rebuttal of his published books and essays. Poor old man, burnt and exhausted, will be living the rest of his days invalidated. The new generation of FBI insisted the public that they have no position to apprehend the legendary Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham. The doctor would be too smart to disclose everything to the public, including their current abode, unless… one smart detective suggested… they are already dead.

Nonetheless, no death certificates or any records suggests their death, so they visited their Swedish Mansion in the middle of the woods to check.

When they did, they saw a beautiful display of two corpses lovingly intertwined to one another on top of a cement in the middle of the foyer. They are surrounded by blooming flowers, and the walls hung paintings of Will Graham, obviously painted by the artistic doctor. The stairs are full of intricate fishing baits done by the well-known hobbyist and fisherman. 

The bodies have been there for 5 months or so, preserved by plastination and whatever chemicals are in the cement block that fumes directly to their corpses. They are beautiful pieces of art, like a tableau of death no one cannot stop looking at. If not for the circumstance, the entire foyer would have been put to a museum. How Hannibal achieved this to themselves was a mystery. One cannot just prepare for the design of one’s own death, let alone for an isolated 80 year old. Maybe Hannibal Lecter isn’t entirely human after all.

This beautiful dramatic piece, this design born and done with love, is considered the Chesapeake Ripper’s final tableau.

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic. I hope it is well, considering I've only asked this scenario to myself whenever I read an OP!Hannibal fic. To shut my mind of these thoughts, I must write to finally read fics in peace. I hope this puts you in peace, too.


End file.
